


Still Need Shielding

by Entwinedlove



Series: My Tender Insides [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Political Animals
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Minor Character Death, Post-Canon (Political Animals), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-09 09:51:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14713808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entwinedlove/pseuds/Entwinedlove
Summary: The Wizarding World has come to the long-drawn-out conclusion that they should dissolve the Statute of Secrecy, they just didn’t expect it to happen quite like this.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alpha'd by [Travelilah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/travelilah)! Thank you so much for your help and words of encouragement!

Hermione was sitting up straight in her assigned chair listening and offering her opinion as often as she was allowed. With close to six hundred delegates—two hundred of which were leaders of their respective governments, four hundred belonged to selected or elected seats in the International Confederation of Wizards—in the large auditorium and with everyone's need to speak, Hermione's chances were few but her stance was known.

Repeal the 1692 Statute of Secrecy.

Exposure was imminent, what with mobile phones and surveillance cameras everywhere and if wizards were forced out, it was possible things would get ugly before they could get ahead of it. They needed to come to light with grace and dignity, not be forced out. That would help ensure that Muggle governments didn't outright attack them. As much as Hermione loved the Wizarding World and her place in it, her parents were Muggle and she would have a difficult time remaining neutral if the world went to war over exposure.

Plus, with the Battle of New York fought by enhanced individuals like Captain America and creatures like the Hulk, the time was ripe for coming clean. If everything she'd read about the battle were true, there were god-like beings from other worlds as well as aliens. What was one more thing for Muggles to accept? Yet it was almost a year out from the battle and their window of riding the coattails of others' exposure and limiting their own backlash was closing.

It seemed, however, that after almost ten months of debating and deliberation, the International Confederation of Wizards might finally be coming to a conclusion. Hermione listened as the Supreme Mugwump, an African wizard by the name of Babajide Akingbade, closed the floor for discussion. "We've spent almost a year in discourse regarding the repeal of the Statue of Secrecy. We've heard impassioned stories from every country. With the rise in Muggle-borns, the increased visibility with technology, and the exposure and relatively small amount of fear and backlash regarding othered cultures, it seems we have finally come to an agreement. The Dissolution of the Statue of Secrecy will commence now. Seeing as the President of the United States is typically considered the most powerful person in the world, we've come to the decision that they shall be our first point of contact. In honour of the connection then, I nominate President Reeves of MaCUSA the position of speaking with their non-magical president."

Reeves stood up tall, fingers pressing out the creases of the navy blue suit she wore. Her blonde hair was cropped short around her head and it didn't move when she lifted her chin to speak. "I appreciate the nomination but I'm going to have to respectfully decline. Unlike some," she looked around and let her gaze pin Hermione and several other heads of state before returning to a neutral place near the Mugwump, "MaCUSA Presidents don't usually have contact with their no-maj counterparts, I feel like I don't have the proper rapport to give this vaulted position the nuance it deserves." She sat back down.

"Fair enough," Akingbade said from where he stood near the base of the tiered, circular seating, "Then shall we nominate those of us who do have connections within their respective non-magical governments? I believe that narrows the pool to twenty or so representatives?" He made a gesture with his hand, flipping his palm up and raising his fingertips. The twenty or so delegates stood, Hermione included. Akingbade sat back down and pointed to the wizard on the opposite side of the room from Hermione.

Each of the twenty representatives was allowed to speak to politely decline or give a short reason why they would be the best fit for the position. Most of them declined. If they did, they sat down. By the time it was Hermione's turn to speak, only three other people were standing, all rather pompous wizards from countries with authoritarian governments, all with open secrets that they didn't have problems manipulating their non-magical counterparts.

When everyone's gaze turned to Hermione, she smiled. "I would be honoured to be considered for the position of leading the Dissolution of the Statute of Secrecy. I'm on good terms with our non-magical prime minister. I'm also a Muggle-born who hasn't shunned her non-magical relatives and connections. If I were to be selected I would be capable of coordinating with the British and American non-magical governments to gain the positive attention of the world's peoples leading up to the reveal. This sort of position will also most likely result in an increase in attention from the non-magical press, which I feel I'm uniquely qualified to handle as I've been a prominent figure in the British magical press since I was a teenager." She left the allusion to her time in Voldemort's War unsaid.

Most of the members of the ICW knew of the war but had intentionally kept out of it, to the point that in Britain it was called the Second Wizarding War whereas internationally it was only thought of as a small British dispute. Many of the members didn't think Voldemort had touched the world outside of Britain except when Hermione had mentioned his name once almost everyone had still shuddered in fear despite the man being dead for fifteen years. They didn't like to acknowledge that his name still held the power it did.

All around them, wizards were whispering and it sounded positive. The three other leaders who'd already spoken had similar looks of frustration. It was obvious from their glares that they weren't thrilled that Hermione had all but volunteered. Did they expect someone like her to stand back and watch them threaten all the non-magical governments of the world?

Akingbade gestured for the four of them to sit and they complied. "Well, I believe we'll take a vote on the four volunteers." He asked the formal questions and he and his assistant tallied up the counts even though the yeses in Hermione's favour were overwhelming. "It looks like the position to lead the Dissolution of the Statute of Secrecy by speaking with the non-magical President of the United States falls to British Minister for Magic, Hermione Granger. Congratulations Minister Granger, I have every faith in your ability to lead the Wizarding World at large into this new age." He glanced around, checking to see if there was anyone with other pressing matters. He must not have as he stood again and called the session to a close.

The immediate noise after always took Hermione by surprise. If she hadn't noticed Percy leaning close to pat her on the shoulder in congratulations she would have jerked. As it was, she forced herself to take deep breaths until the ball of tension in her stomach started to fade. Hermione gathered her belongings and turned to Percy who was pulling out a thin, wooden back scratcher that his wife, Audrey, had given him as a gag gift. He'd made it into a re-usable Portkey. "Did you need anything else, Hermione? Susan?" he asked before he offered the stick to them.

Hermione shook her head and glanced to her left to look at Susan Bones, the most recent nominated British seat at the ICW. "No, I'm good," Susan said, "Unless you want to speak with Krum? He's making eyes at you again from the fifth row."

Hermione looked back over her shoulder to see Viktor looking in her direction. He smiled widely when he saw her looking and waved. He gestured a few quick words with his hands in British Sign Language. One of his children had been born deaf and Viktor had still wanted his son to be multilingual so they'd learned BSL. "Oh," Hermione said, responding in kind to him before turning back around to answer Susan. "He just wanted to let me know that Sofia loved her birthday present and he'd write me soon. And for the record, he was not making eyes at me."

Susan gave her a disbelieving look followed by a grin. "Yeah, yeah, sure."

"Just because we went to the Yule Ball decades ago and we're divorced now, does not mean we're going to hook up. We're just good friends. His children call me Aunt Hermione."

"We just don't like seeing you alone. You and Ron divorced ten years ago."

Hermione sighed. "I know."

"Are we ready, then?" Percy asked. He'd seen the painful fallout that both Hermione and Ron went through with the divorce and he knew to step around the landmine that it was. "I'm sure we need to gather a list of people to tell, detail your plan on speaking with the American President, draw up your travel itinerary, connect with Harry for a protective entourage—"

"Percy?" she interrupted him.

"Hmm?" he asked, blinking behind his wire-rimmed frames.

"We can work on it tomorrow. I plan on taking the rest of the day off to relax and think. Maybe enjoy a bubble bath and a glass of wine."

"Oh, yes. Good idea. We can start on it all tomorrow."

Hermione patted him on the arm and smiled at him when he ducked his head. As they'd grown older, they'd learned that they worked well together except they tended to be workaholics. They'd made a promise to one another to slow down and keep each other in check. She reached out and grabbed the Portkey back scratcher. "Let's go home, shall we?" she asked them. Percy nodded, waited for Susan to grab the Portkey, and then activated it.

*** . * . ***

Hermione stretched her aching back as she slowly made her way through the disembarking procedures. She'd had the good intention of being seen by the non-magical population as she came to the United States for an extremely classified meeting with the President. She'd forgotten the frustration of long air flights, unfortunately. She'd at least dressed down for comfort. When she rounded the corner and turned towards the baggage claim, she saw a man in a sharp black suit with her suitcase at his feet and a sign in his hand with her name on it.

"Shit," she murmured to herself. She hadn't thought about the security detail she'd been promised when she'd spoken with the Prime Minister. She should have dressed at least a bit more professionally. Too late now. She approached him and offered him a smile. "I'm Minister Granger."

"Agent Briggs, ma'am. I'm here to drive you to your hotel," he said, bending down to pick up her suitcase and beckoning her to follow him. He dropped the sign with her name on it into a rubbish bin as they passed one.

"You're also my protection detail, aren't you?"

"No, ma'am. I mean, yes... well, I'm Secret Service, so yes I do protection detail but you ranked someone higher than me. He's at the car." The car turned out to be a black limo with dark tinted windows. The door opened and a very tall, handsome man with shoulder-length dark brown hair stepped out of the back. He was dressed in long-sleeved black tactical gear with a black glove on his left hand but not on his right. He didn't look at them at first, rather his eyes seemed to scan the surroundings for threats. He was broad at the shoulders and exuded an air of power and danger. Hermione could have swooned; he was fit and she wasn't a spinster yet.

"Sergeant Barnes will be your protection detail during your time here in the States," Agent Briggs said, beginning to introduce them.

"Sergeant?" she asked, turning to look at Agent Briggs. She would have thought Agent Briggs would out-rank a non-commissioned officer.

The Secret Service agent ducked his head as if he was embarrassed for her for having to explain. "He's an Avenger, ma'am."

"Oh," she said, feeling ridiculously inarticulate. Barnes's gaze finally settled on her and she felt very small with his attention focused on her. She couldn't place this particular Avenger in her mental roster of the brave men and women who had fought in the Battle of New York but she could be respectful. She smiled at him despite the tension gathering in her shoulders. "How do you do, Sergeant Barnes?"

He nodded and his lips twitched up at the corners, the slightest little smirk at her. His attention turned to Agent Briggs. "We moving out?"

Agent Briggs nodded and answered in the affirmative before moving around to the boot and opening it with a key. He put her suitcase inside, closed the boot, and walked to the front of the limo to drive it. Sergeant Barnes stepped to the side and put his hand on the door, bringing his gaze back to her. Hermione got the unspoken message and slipped inside, sliding over so he could rejoin her in the back of the car. She'd never ridden in a limo before and the spacious, leather interior felt over-the-top compared to the simple car interiors to which she was accustomed.

Sergeant Barnes shut the door behind him as he got in. He didn't look at her or attempt to start a conversation with her, instead, his attention was outside the car on the other vehicles around them.

Hermione assumed the awkwardness in the air was all her own and glanced down at her pink blouse, jeans, and trainers. At least she didn't have food stains from the in-flight meal. The ride was smooth but soon enough Hermione noticed that they'd stopped moving for a bit too long. A glance at Sergeant Barnes didn't glean Hermione anything. He didn't look anxious or worried, just bored. It seemed like they were stuck in heavy traffic.

"How far is the hotel from where we are?" She asked, surprising herself.

Barnes blinked once before looking at her. He didn't move his head when he did it, just his eyes. The move unnerved her for some reason. "Eight blocks."

She shook her head. "I don't understand blocks. We don't have them in Britain. Give it to me in miles, or kilometres or time spent walking."

His little grin was back. "About a mile, klick and a half, twenty minutes."

Some of Hermione's awkward tension seeped out at his answer. He was teasing her. "Do you think we can talk Agent Briggs into dropping off my suitcase and you and I walking? I'm tired of sitting and would like some fresh air."

He tipped his head to look at her as if he didn't expect her to say something like that. "The limo's bulletproof."

"And if you're worried about drawing attention, wouldn't the limo be more conspicuous than a woman in jeans and trainers?" she asked back. Her gaze slipped down to his chest and then back to his face. "Though tactical gear would probably draw attention, too, I suppose."

"Not as much as you'd think," he said and then flipped open a compartment near him. Inside she could see rolled fabric and a handgun. He pulled out the burgundy fabric and unrolled it. A long-sleeved shirt. He started unfastening the tactical shirt without another word and Hermione quickly turned her head to give him privacy. She could still hear the rustle of the clothing and there was something else her ears were picking up. A mechanical whir that didn't seem like it was related to car noise. The compartment flipped up and she heard him press something to address the driver. "Briggs, the Minister would like to ask you something."

She turned back to see that he was dressed in the red long-sleeved shirt; it emphasised his broad shoulders and chest and Hermione's breath might have hitched before she blinked and spoke to Agent Briggs. He seemed hesitant but she reassured him. "We're just two people walking the pavement. Nothing unusual or attention-grabbing. We'll be at the hotel before you, I expect."

He heaved a put-upon sigh before agreeing. Sergeant Barnes opened the door and stepped out first; he paused and after a quick look around offered his hand to her. She let him help her out of the car and then directed her to the pavement where he insisted on walking between her and the traffic.

"Tell me something about yourself, Sergeant," she said. He let her set the pace but she followed his body language to know which way to go.

"My name's Bucky," he answered, less stiffly than she would have expected.

"I'm Hermione."

"I know." He glanced at her and that teasing smirk was back.

"Are you always this difficult to have a conversation with?" she asked, though she couldn't help the smile that graced her lips.

"Nah, I used to be charming," he slowed as they came to the first cross street to wait for the signal that they could cross, "or so Steve tells me."

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she took in that comment. "Steve Rogers?" she asked.

He nodded once as he glanced around. Checking for moving cars or threats or both. He gestured with his hand to start across the street and she followed his instruction. They were quiet as they crested the kerb and started down the next section of pavement.

She couldn't figure him out. Who was Sergeant Bucky Barnes and why did the connection to Steve Rogers trigger something in her mind. Who was this man and why was he an Avenger? Then suddenly the name rang a bell. When she'd first read about Captain Steve Rogers, after the alien battle in New York, she'd read about his history as an officer in World War II. Sergeant Bucky Barnes was his best friend. She stopped walking once it clicked. He was two steps ahead when he also froze where he stood and turned to her.

"Something wrong?" he asked, looking her up and down like she might have suddenly sustained some life-threatening injury without his knowledge. She couldn't really find words that would get her answers without the questions being rude. The word 'how' was stuck on her tongue but before she could either force it out or away he nodded. "You do know who I am."

She couldn't do much more than nod. Her mouth seemed to function again except the only thing that came out was, "How?"

He started to speak but then took a deep breath instead. He stepped closer and spoke quieter. "Have you heard of the Winter Soldier?"

She _had_ heard of the Winter Soldier. Earlier in the year, every news station in the world had gone on for days about the Soldier and the internal corruption of the United States' private intelligence and espionage agency and the subsequent destruction of its headquarters. Almost five dozen people had been killed and over a hundred more had been identified as HYDRA agents. She'd even read some of the files that had been dumped onto the internet. She blinked. "That was you?"

He nodded once again and shifted his right hand over his left wrist, pushing back the sleeve to show off the metal there. She took in the detail as he pulled his sleeve back down but her gaze moved up his left arm to his shoulder then glanced at the other side. He was surprisingly symmetrical. She'd been around war amputees before, her mind thought of Alastor Moody and his wooden leg, for having the limb replaced in the forties it was surprisingly advanced. She almost wished she'd looked when he'd changed shirts both because she couldn't help but be attracted to him and also from scientific curiosity. She wondered how the metal arm worked and if HYDRA had had some wizards working with the advanced tech they were known for exploring.

She blinked and realised she'd been staring; she felt her face suffuse with heat when she glanced back at him. There was a smile there, almost flirty like he knew what he looked like and where her thoughts had been.

"I apologise for—" she started but he stopped her.

"Don't worry about it. Though, now that it's more accepted, Steve and I..."

She blinked again as she caught the implication. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not normally this—"

He grinned and turned, picking up her arm and slipping it between his elbow and body, escorting her like a date. It allowed him to be close to her so their conversation could be quiet. "It's been a while since I've been looked at like that, truth be told, so don't apologise. What do you want to talk about? You remind me of Peggy, you know, something about an English dame in charge, I suppose. That and the posh accent."

She laughed and felt the last of the tension between them fade. She supposed that if she was going to have an Avenger-protection detail then it might be prudent to befriend the man.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alpha'd by [Travelilah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/travelilah)! Thank you so much for your help and words of encouragement!

The day after Hermione arrived in DC she had a visitor in her outrageously large penthouse suite at her hotel. He was an older man with a mouth that ran off faster than she could even in her best swot days. It wasn't until she had been sitting with him listening politely with a cup of coffee gone cold between her hands for over an hour that she learned his name.

Sergeant Barnes had opened the door to the room he was assigned and headed for the coffee pot only to grumble at the man still talking a mile-a-minute. "Don't you ever shut up, Stark?"

She blinked and sat up straighter, shocked that she hadn't recognised the man. This was Tony Stark, engineering genius and billionaire owner of Stark Industries. His company had its fingers in everything that was anything in the Muggle world. Even Hermione had a Stark branded mobile phone.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise exactly who you were," she said to him.

Barnes stopped pouring his coffee to look at her with confusion in his still sleepy gaze. "You've just been sitting at the table listening to a stranger yap for how long?"

"He was interesting," she answered, shrugging. "Besides, I can take care of myself."

He frowned at her. In the quiet of the morning, she could hear the soft whir as he moved his metal arm. "How did you even get in here, Stark?"

Stark shrugged. "She let me in."

The incredulous look Barnes sent her was ridiculously endearing on his stubbly face and sharp jaw. Hermione licked her lips and looked away, unbelievably frustrated with herself for checking him out again this morning.

"How did I end up with an Avengers escort anyway?" she asked, focusing her attention back to Stark.

"You've got contacts, dearie," he said, "A friend of yours is an acquaintance of mine—Kingsley Shacklebolt?—and he asked, or rather I offered to hire one of us out at a discount, and he took me up on the offer. He might have dropped that you're one of the top Ministers in Britain though I haven't found _anything_ about you on the internet. Are you part of some super secret agency? MI5? MI6? _MI7?_ "

Hermione couldn't help herself and laughed. "Do you even know what those offices are?"

He paused only briefly before answering, "Well, no... but you're going to tell me, right? You're in the 7 one, aren't you?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm not in any of those. MI5 deals with internal matters like national security. MI6 deals with external affairs."

"And MI7?"

"If it exists, I don't know what it's for." Barnes tugged her cup of cold coffee out of her hands and offered her a replacement, piping hot but black, without a word. He moved the sugar dish, cream, and a spoon closer. Hermione smiled and mouthed 'thank you' to him as Stark spoke again.

"JARVIS, what's MI7?" he asked, tapping his finger against the edge of his glasses.

Hermione startled a little when a British voice spoke from them. "MI7 was a department in the British Directorate of Military Intelligence in both the First and Second World War. The group, which was part of British Military Intelligence, was established to control propaganda and censorship."

She must have looked stunned at him because Stark offered an explanation. "JARVIS is an artificial intelligence that I created based on my father's British butler, Edwin Jarvis. He runs my tower. Pepper runs everything else."

"Impressive," she said stirring sugar and cream into her coffee. She set the spoon down and took a sip and hummed contentedly. "How do you know Kingsley?"

"First name basis, hmm?" Stark said like he was impressed, "I met him at a party—gala? Something Pepper said I had to go to—around Christmas two years ago. It was for a former British Prime Minister, I think. Something about he was an old friend of the minister. Now, what about you? How do you know him? And what is it you do? What are you in charge of?"

She gave him a smile that she hoped conveyed that she would not be telling him anything but he didn't seem to comprehend. "Kingsley," she paused and took a sip of her coffee, debating on how much to tell, "served in the position I'm in now for fifteen years. I've worked with him since I left school and before that, we were in the war together."

Barnes turned and pinned her with a glare, "Which war?"

She smiled even as she chided her self. "The one we won. I'll tell you more if you're interested after I meet with the President."

"Well, of course, we're interested. What sort of work do you do? Are you a spy? I mean, I suppose if you are a spy you wouldn't tell me, right? Would you tell Natasha?"

Barnes snorted at Stark's rambling. "She's not a spy, Stark."

"Huh, what? How do you know?"

"She's a politician," he said, canting his head to the side as if asking for confirmation. She nodded. "That's why you hired me out, remember."

"Right," Stark's lips turned down into a frustrated frown, "but I still don't know what you're in charge of. What are you the minister of? Why is there nothing about you online?"

"The part of the government I'm in charge of is very... old-fashioned," she answered without grinning at her ridiculous statement. She was a politician, after all, she could lie with the best of them.

Stark's mouth dropped slack like he was in shock and he might have gone a little pale. "You mean you don't use computers?" She shook her head in response and he looked even more shocked, his eyes widening in horror. "At all? Cellphones? Something?"

"I do own a mobile phone and I own a computer but the majority of my constituents don't and our branch doesn't use them at all."

The shock-horror was gone and he pointed towards her, snapping his fingers like he'd figured her out. "Old people. Old people don't use computers. So you're in charge of old people." He started to speak again but Barnes reached out with his left hand and set a plate of food in front of Hermione. She hadn't even noticed he had spent the time cooking. A delicious looking stack of fluffy pancakes topped with strawberries sat in front of her.

"Some of us _old people_ have trouble with advanced tech," Barnes said.

Stark tilted his head and raised an eyebrow as he gave an incredulous look, pointedly following Barnes' metal hand and arm with his gaze. Hermione couldn't help it and started snickering. It took Stark and Barnes both another moment before grins cracked across their lips.

Stark sighed theatrically and rolled his eyes at the two of them. "Well, I suppose I can wait a little while before you tell me your big secret," he told her, "but right now I've got to go. I've got a meeting at ten."

"It's a quarter 'til, Stark," Barnes told him.

He didn't look worried. "Good thing it's only downstairs in a conference room."

"That's not a coincidence."

"Of course not, Pepper's a lifesaver." Stark started walking backwards toward the door, gesturing with both hands pointed at Hermione. "Later today? Tomorrow? I expect a full report, got it?" She gave him a suitable nod, doubting she'd actually be the one to explain her position to him but agreeing nonetheless.

After the door closed behind him Barnes set a glass of orange juice in front of her. "You were in a war before you left school?" he asked, almost casually.

"What?" His question startled her, she hadn't expected either of them to pick up exactly what she'd said.

"You said you worked with this Kingsley fellow since you left school and _before that_ , you were in a war together." There was no question in his reiteration of her statement.

She nodded and looked up to make eye contact. "Yes, I was." There was the slightest twitch under his left eye as he held her gaze and his lips pursed together tightly. After a moment he nodded once and looked her over.

"Eat," he said and turned back toward the hob.

Hermione found herself looking down at her plate with a little smile of appreciation on her face. There was something about being fed breakfast and the way he seemed to be upset that she'd been in a war before she'd really been an adult that left her feeling provided for and protected. Her heart ached for a relationship that made her feel the same. "Yes, sir," she said, a little belatedly to his command. She snickered when he snorted in humour at her response.

*** . * . ***

Hermione's meeting with President Barrish was an hour before noon and after the lovely breakfast Barnes had provided, she dressed appropriately. Her robes were a muted green, conservative as all Wizarding clothes tended to be, and accented with a dark forest green at her waist. Where many women in politics tended to wear knee-length business suits, Hermione's robes were ankle length and she paired them with tan suede boots with a kitten heel.

The skin around Barnes's eyes crinkled as he looked at her from where he stood near the door. He was wearing tactical pants and a charcoal grey long-sleeved shirt. A glove hid the metal of his left hand. "Briggs is downstairs with the car."

Hermione nodded and pressed her left hand against her right forearm, confirming that her wand was in its holster. She picked up the small briefcase that held paperwork and information to provide written proof of what she planned to discuss with the President. She was as prepared as she could possibly be. She swallowed her nerves and headed out the door. Barnes followed behind her.

Briggs had the limo pulled up next to the exit. Barnes glanced around for threats before letting her step out and then he held the door of the limo open for her first. She slid in and watched him step in after her.

"Are you going to be in the meeting with me?" she asked once Agent Briggs had the limo moving.

"Do you expect the President to attack you?" he asked without inflexion.

She snorted but shook her head. "No, though I do worry that her Secret Service detail will expect me to attack her." He turned his head from where he was gazing out the window to pin her with a stare. His brows furrowed.

"Do you have a weapon on you?"

She swallowed and decided to tell the truth. She hoped it wouldn't cause disaster. "Yes."

She watched his jaw clench and gave him a few moments before she slowly moved her left hand to her right sleeve and laid it flat on her forearm. She pushed the fabric of her loose sleeve up her arm to show off the wand holster and her wand. "Eleven inches, Applewood with a core of Dragon Heartstring." She only glanced down at the pale wand. Deep in her heart, she still missed her original wand but it had been broken when she was snatched. She'd had this one since after the war because despite gaining ownership of Bellatrix's wand it still made her feel sick to use it.

Barnes's eyes were focused solely on the wand on her wrist. Instead of flicking her wrist to activate the mechanism to snap it into her palm—she figured any quick movement would result in retaliation—she unlatched it with her left hand and slipped it into her palm that way. She wasn't sure what spell she wanted to show off to gentle his suspicion so she cast her Patronus. The otter burst from the tip with just a twist of her wrist and a focused thought. Barnes did jerk back at the sudden brightness of silvery-blue in the car but he steadied himself shortly thereafter. The otter swam through the air to rub against his cheek and she watched as his tight jaw went slack and his eyes closed. His entire body seemed to melt, boneless, into the leather seat. When he reopened his eyes his mouth still hadn't closed and he watched with what looked like longing in his eyes as she let the otter fade away.

It took him a moment before he asked, "What the hell was that?"

She smiled. "Magic." She waited while the word sunk in and his jaw tightened again.

"Like the Tesseract? Asgardian tech?"

She shook her head and bit her bottom lip before answering. "No, I was born with it. It can be used as a weapon, though."

"You're not going to assassinate the President?"

"No, I don't plan to kill anyone."

After another few moments, he asked, "This what your meeting is about?" She took the time to reload her wand into the spring mechanism and pull down her sleeve.

"It is." He nodded and then returned to his careful surveillance outside the vehicle.

They sat quietly until the limo pulled up next to the iconic White House. Before he opened the door, he turned and asked, "Your war?"

She pressed her lips into a flat sort of smile and nodded. He replied with a similar look. He got out, looked around for more threats and then let her out of the car. He followed behind her while Briggs led her toward the entrance. She was met with an aide and led inside. Once inside she walked through a metal detector and had an agent scan her body with an electronic wand to detect any weapons. Her briefcase was opened and inspected but there were only papers inside. Briggs and Barnes both followed them into a well-lit room and stood against the wall. There were cameras at one end of the room with chairs for a press-op. A small crew stood around them setting things up.

President Elaine Barrish was a tall, older woman with auburn hair. Her navy dress was high-waisted and accentuated with a thick brown belt. At her elbow was a tall, lean, younger man with dark hair.

"Minister Granger, it's a pleasure," Barrish said, offering her hand. Hermione shook her hand with a firm but light grip and offered her own smile.

"The pleasure's mine, Madam President." She glanced back at the camera crew. "The meeting itself is closed, yes?"

"Of course, though Prime Minister Cameron said a press-op wouldn't go amiss."

"We can do it before or after, whichever you prefer," the younger man said.

"Right. Minister Granger this is my son and Chief of Staff, Douglas Hammond."

"Pleasure," she answered as she also shook his hand. "The information I'm like to reveal might have you feeling uncomfortable, I suggest we do the press business beforehand."

Hammond smiled and nodded and then stepped away to speak to the camera crew and aides. President Barrish gestured for Hermione to take a seat and she did so. Her gaze snapped up as the door was opened and a dozen journalists and their own cameramen joined them. Her gaze slipped past them to Barnes and he returned the look.

Hermione followed the procedure admirably, smiling and shaking the President's hand on cue. Speaking in general terms about how she was happy to be there. Finally, the last camera was turned off and Hammond gestured for all the journalists and cameramen and extra staff to exit.

"We've got a smaller conference room set up for the meeting. Do you mind if Douglas is there? I know you asked for a closed meeting but I wasn't sure how classified this information is," Barrish said as she stood and led Hermione into the smaller room. A Secret Service agent followed a step behind them. "And of course, Clark will be there but he's sworn to secrecy as well."

"Both will be fine," Hermione answered. They sat at a large glass-topped cherry table. The chairs were overstuffed and fluffy and she felt like sinking into it. She was going to have to purchase one of these for her office, Cushioning Charms only did so much to the threadbare antique she was expected to sit in as Minister for Magic. The door closed behind them and Clark stood at the door.

Barrish wasted no time in beginning the meeting. "So, I know you're a Minister of Britain but I'm not sure I know what you're in charge of. My staff couldn't find much information regarding your position. Is it that classified? Extraterrestrial, of some sort? Something worse?"

Hermione smiled. "Something different. Magic."

*** . * . ***

TJ rounded the hall and turned to the room he knew his mother was in. Briggs was standing near the door with someone else but the door was shut. Dammit. He wanted to see what Mama and Doug wanted for lunch. It was time for his monthly check-in both with his sobriety and with the jazz club he'd opened. Spending an honest lunch with them was his penance for the original funding that he'd already paid back. It had been four years since the disastrous opening of The Dome and in the time since, he'd sold his share of it and opened something that was more laid back. He even played the piano there three nights a week.

He'd gone to rehab again, after his overdose, and he had struggled but now he was twelve months clean and sober.

It was also his birthday. He wanted to surprise Doug and inside his jacket pocket was a flash drive with an original piece he'd written for his twin.

Briggs looked up from who he was talking to and his jaw might have dropped at seeing TJ but for his discipline. It didn't stop his eyebrows from raising. "I guess I never really noticed," he muttered, glancing back at his company. His broad-shouldered, well-built company who was in a non-designer long sleeve shirt and tactical pants. The man's long hair wasn't fashionable either. He looked up and TJ stopped in his tracks about two yards away.

"Uncle Bucky?" he said.

The man glanced at him with furrowed brows. "Uncle?"

"I'll be down the hall," Briggs said to both or neither of them before he practically jogged away from them.

When they were alone, TJ stepped a little closer. His gaze traced the man's face, _his_ face, with shock. They looked even more strikingly similar now and in person than TJ remembered from the Smithsonian exhibit. After an unpleasantly awkward moment of silence, he finally responded to the comment. "I don't actually know if there's a familial relation but I've thought of you as Uncle Bucky since I saw your face in the Captain America exhibit when I was fifteen. How are you here? You died."

Bucky Barnes's face cracked into something like a grin. "I got better."

A shocked snort slipped from TJ. "Even if we're not related, I think I inherited your sarcasm. Is it classified?"

"It's not... classified, really, but..."

"Oh, I'm TJ Hammond, by the way," he gestured toward the closed door where his mom was, "President's son." He offered his hand to his idol-slash-lookalike.

Barnes reached out and shook his hand, "Bucky Barnes." It was then that TJ realised that Barnes was looking him over like he'd done to him. He was looking at his hair.

"I tried to style it like one of the pictures of you from the war once. The part was a bit severe for me but it made for a fun Halloween. My brother went as Captain America."

Barnes snorted. "Your grandmother's name doesn't happen to be Rebecca, does it?"

"Nope, Margaret, and she was born in the forties."

"Hmm," he said, still looking over TJ like he wasn't sure who he was looking at. After a moment his gaze turned hard and when he spoke again it was close to a whisper. "You've heard of the Winter Soldier?"

TJ's eyes went wide before he took a step back. "You—you're—" He blanched and glanced towards the door where his mom was supposed to be and then down the hall where Briggs had disappeared.

Barnes seemed to understand the reaction and didn't move, he did explain his presence though. "I'm... better now. Working with the Avengers, protection detail."

TJ's heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest. He bit his lips to stop himself from freaking out further and just stared at Barnes. It took a moment before he realised he was staring at the man's left arm like a jerk. Barnes didn't seem put out, instead, he raised his sleeve to show off a bit of metal. TJ exhaled, almost calm again. "That's cool," he said, sounding like an idiot. It wasn't that he wasn't afraid—he was—it was just he knew what getting better was like. He didn't think the Winter Soldier had been _addicted_ to killing, but the steps to getting better? TJ knew something about that. Plus, Barnes would have had to have been cleared to even be in the building much less this close to the President. He glanced back toward the door and like a prayer was answered it opened and Doug and his mom and someone else stepped out. Doug was looking a bit pale and strung out, his hair sticking up at odd angles like he'd pulled on it. "You guys okay?" he asked, though he wasn't sure what he could do.

Doug swallowed and glanced up, blinking at him like he'd stepped out of thin air. "We're fine," he said, nodding. He didn't sound fine at all.

TJ glanced at his mom and then at the other woman. She was average height, made only a little taller with her boots. Her outfit wasn't designer either but it might have been bespoke. It was definitely an odd fashion but it looked good on her. Her hair was really pretty and curly and he swallowed while looking at her. Nothing like his normal turn-ons, obviously, but she was definitely attractive.

His mom must have caught him staring at the unknown woman and introduced them, "Minister Granger, this is my other son, TJ Hammond."

He offered his hand to her. "Nice to meet you."

She shook his hand and gave him a smile. "Likewise."

He glanced back at his mom and Doug before addressing Granger again, "I hope you'll join us for lunch, Minister?"

"Please, call me Hermione, and yes, lunch sounds brilliant." She looked over at the Winter Soldier, "Is that all right with you?" He nodded once.

TJ was a bit shocked when neither Doug nor their mom said anything, so he took it upon himself to lead the way. "There's this great pizzeria ten minutes away."

"Pizza is fine with me," Hermione answered.

TJ was worried when the others just nodded blankly but since no one objected he led the way back out. Clark would drive.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alpha'd by [Travelilah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/travelilah)! Thank you so much for your help and words of encouragement!

TJ might have been preening a little as they walked out of the pizzeria listening to Hermione laugh at his joke. If Doug was paying attention to him he probably would have told TJ to stop flirting but he just couldn't help himself. Barnes—Bucky as he'd been told to call him—had also flirted a little with both him and her but he wasn't being serious about it. Either way, lunch had gone really well and TJ was flying from a natural dopamine high.

As he stepped onto the sidewalk he realised the sky was unusually dark for just an hour after noon. He looked up and gasped, feeling terror race down his spine. There was something in the sky that looked like some horrible combination of _Independence Day_ and the Battle of New York.

Within seconds, two cell phones were ringing and Bucky and Doug both answered. Something green and laser-like shot out from the thing—the spaceship?—in the sky and a building across the street started to crumble. People were screaming.

TJ backed up a few steps until he was next to Clark. Clark was standing in front of Mama but there was something in his hand that wasn't a gun. It looked like a stick. TJ wasn't sure what nightmare he was trapped in but there was another zapping sound in front of them as an alien-monster appeared in the middle of the street. Bucky ran towards the creature. Hermione ran alongside him.

TJ heard a gunshot before he realised Bucky was holding a pistol. The alien-monster fell over. TJ would have called it a potshot had he not known Bucky had been a sniper.

"What are you doing?" Bucky shouted harshly at Hermione. It was only then that TJ realised that underneath the sound of people screaming there was a loud, low droning noise. He assumed it came from the spaceship above them.

"I can help!" she shouted back, and something red shot out of the stick she was holding and another monster that had stepped forward fell over the body of the first.

TJ wondered when he fell off the wagon because this felt like a really bad trip.

"TJ!" Clark shouted at him. He held a hula hoop for some odd reason. "Take hold of it!" he commanded. TJ was in so much shock he complied. Clark had never hurt him; he could trust Clark. "Minister Granger! I've got a Portkey, we just need a safe destination." Mama held onto the ridiculous hula hoop and Doug grabbed hold with one hand too, the other still held his phone.

"Camp David is also under attack!" Doug said, panic making his voice rise in pitch and his shoulders bunch up his neck. Anne, seven months pregnant, was taking respite at Camp David.

"Grandpa Hammond's farm?" TJ asked. Clark nodded and tapped the hula hoop with his stick.

"Hermione," Bucky's tone was demanding and angry. "Get your ass back there. Let me do my job!" He pushed her on the shoulder and she stumbled backwards. TJ grabbed her around the waist before she fell.

"Hermione, come on," he said, not really understanding what was going on but knowing enough that she needed to be touching the hula hoop before whatever was going to happen happened. She struggled against the arm he had wrapped around her waist and he tried to brace his feet wider. "Hermione!" he shouted, unconcerned that it was in her ear. The droning and zapping and gunshots were so loud he could barely hear himself.

"Let me go, TJ!"

"TJ, either let her go or pull her here!"

At Clark's command, TJ pulled her towards him, spinning her into his personal space and leaned down. He laid his mouth over hers, an open smacking sort of kiss, and pressed her back against the plastic hoop. There was a horrible yanking sensation that ripped at his belly button and when he reopened his eyes, he was on top of Hermione on grass. She looked outraged. TJ jumped up and let go of the hula hoop; it disappeared before it hit the ground. He'd meant the kiss as a distraction, pinning her to the ground was beyond what he'd intended.

He looked up to see Mama and Doug and Clark all also getting up. He offered his hand to Hermione and was surprised when she took it. He glanced around; they were in the front yard of his late grandpa's farmhouse.

"TJ, I don't care if there's a national disaster going on, you can't just kiss foreign heads of state!"

"I feel like we've had this argument before," he said back to his mother without thinking. The disappointed look on Mama's face made him cringe and add, "Come on, she's got a thing with the Winter Soldier and I'm not _that_ bad of a replacement!"

Hermione had stood and was dusting off the back of her dress. "Don't think of yourself like that TJ. Besides, I don't have a thing _with_ Sergeant Barnes, I have a thing _for_ him. He's in a relationship."

Mama's eyebrows raised and TJ gave a one-shouldered shrug.

There were two loud CRACKS in the air and TJ, Doug, and their mother all jerked down in reaction to the gunshot sounds. Clark and Hermione stood still, unperturbed.

"Doug!" Anne shouted and ran towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck in an awkward embrace.

Two other Secret Service agents were now standing on the lawn with them. They shared a few words with Clark before brandishing sticks of their own and heading towards the front door of the farmhouse. TJ had seen them clear the building before, not usually with weapons drawn, but their body language was tense as if they did have guns in their hands.

"Can someone explain what's going on? How did we get here? How did _she_ get here?" He pointed to Anne. "Is Nana going to be all right? Is Dad? Am I dreaming? Did I slip up and something bad's happening and this is all in my head?" TJ finally asked. Doug ignored him and instead held Anne close, whispering in her ear. Mama took a step towards him with her hands raised.

She pressed both palms against his cheeks. "I will call your grandmother as soon as we get inside and your father has his own Secret Service detail, I'm sure he's fine. You're not hallucinating. You're sober."

"Then... how?"

"Magic," Hermione said calmly from behind them.

Mama let go, sliding her hands down his shoulders and arms. He turned and looked at Hermione. "Magic?"

"Yes. I'll explain inside if you'd like."

"Is this why Mama and Dougie were all shellshocked when they came out of the meeting with you earlier?" he asked. Behind them, TJ heard Clark and the other agents tell Mama, Doug, and Anne that the farmhouse was clear and they could head inside.

"Yes. It's a bit hard to fathom," she said. TJ didn't know what to say. There were so many questions barrelling through his head. Things he wanted to ask but knew he shouldn't like, _Can I have magic? Can it get me high? Can it keep me sober?_ Instead, he just nodded.

"Okay." He gestured towards the farmhouse and she proceeded him across the yard, up the porch steps and into the kitchen.

*** . * . ***

Once in the kitchen, TJ offered Hermione a chair at the kitchen table. Douglas and Anne had disappeared further inside, probably to a bedroom to calm down, but Mama stayed, sitting in a chair opposite Hermione. TJ sat down next to her and looked at Hermione. On the table in front of her was her stick and TJ noticed there were symbols and markings on the sides.

"This is my wand; it's eleven inches long, made of Applewood with a Dragon Heartstring core. It helps me channel innate magic," Hermione said. TJ could feel her gaze on him as he looked at her wand. She waited and he suspected she wanted some sort of reaction.

"Innate? So it can't be shared or given to anyone who doesn't already have it?"

Mama's shoulders twitched as she shifted in her seat and Hermione's lips turned up at the corners into a little grin. "Yes."

"Okay," he said. "What can it do?" he asked, finally looking up to meet her gaze.

"The wand itself is mostly inert, it's just something to help me focus what's inside. Some magical cultures like Native Americans and certain tribes in Africa don't use wands. Magic itself can be used as a weapon or a shield. I can create things and magical ailments can be treated with it."

He frowned, feeling like what he was about to ask probably didn't count as magical. "Can it cure addiction?" he whispered; he felt like it came across like a desperate plea.

Mama reached out and grabbed his hand. "Oh, TJ," she murmured.

Hermione gave him a sad little smile and shook her head.

He licked his lips and nodded. "It was worth a shot." He looked away from both of them for a moment and saw one of the other agents, Johnson, if he remembered right, talking on his cell phone outside. "So," he said, looking back at Hermione, "are magicians coming out of the closet then?"

There was a huff of a breath from beside him and a quick glance at Mama told him her lips were pursed but turned up, apparently, she'd found his comment funny. He couldn't help but grin at her. It was so very rarely that he could make his mother smile.

Hermione was smiling and calm. "We're called witches and wizards, actually," correcting him, "and... yes, pretty much. We've been in hiding around the world since 1692. I was elected to speak with President Barrish to lead the Dissolution of the Statute of Secrecy. Though," she glanced at the door as Johnson stepped in, "I believe our timetable has been greatly accelerated."

"Madam President," Johnson asked, shooting an apologetic look at Hermione, "President Reeves of the Magical Congress of the United States is asking for sanctuary for the Magical First Family."

"Reeves?" Mama said. TJ's stomach swooped and he felt lightheaded in his chair. He blinked stupidly. Was Sean Reeves a wizard? He had secrets but wouldn't TJ have noticed something like that? It'd been four and a half years since Sean had broken his heart. His chest still hurt at the thought of him. "Congressman Sean Reeves?"

"No, ma'am," Johnson said, "Congressman Reeves is her husband. He's been injured."

Mama looked at TJ but if she was expecting some sort of sign or response she wasn't going to get one, at least not one she liked. He was still staring blankly ahead of him. He was listening though. She turned back and nodded, "Yes, she and her family are welcome. We don't have much in the way of medical help here, though."

"That's fine, ma'am," Johnson said before retrieving his phone from his pocket. "Yes, ma'am, you've been given sanctuary. Do you need coordinates for the Portkey?" he stepped back outside.

"TJ," Mama said, and there was a warning in her tone. He finally blinked again and looked up at her. "You're going to be okay, you hear me? Why don't you go sit with Douglas and Anne, hmm?"

There was a small commotion outside and three more people were in the yard. Four, actually. There was a stretcher hovering beside the tallest and there was a person on it. Johnson directed them inside. Two teenagers, a boy and a girl, stepped inside first and Mama greeted them. The eldest, the boy, smiled at Mama and offered his hand. "I'm Morgan, this is my sister Dylan. It's an honour to meet you." She smiled at him and gestured them further into the room. Clark was near the hall and he ushered them to one of the back bedrooms.

A tall woman with blonde hair, he'd seen her picture before, stepped in next. TJ hadn't noticed that the kids were covered in dust but he noticed she was. Her clothes were dusted white like concrete had been turned to powder. Had a building collapsed on them? On the stretcher hovering behind her was Sean, with a bloody, dirty bandage on his temple. The tall man looked diminished laying there covered in concrete dust. TJ swallowed as he stared and for a moment he didn't realise that the woman was glaring at him. He looked up at her and hoped his face wasn't betraying him.

"President Barrish, Cindy Reeves, how do you do?" Sean's wife said, nodding in Mama's direction.

Mama nodded and smiled back, and raised her hand towards the hall where Clark had led the teenagers. "There's a bedroom where you can clean up and we can tend to your husband's injuries."

Cindy Reeves agreed and as she passed, Hermione spoke. "Let me know if my assistance is needed. I've got some medi-witch training."

Reeves paused. "I do too, I just couldn't hold the shield protecting us and heal him while the building was falling down around us."

"I'm glad you and your family were able to get out."

"Thanks." Then Clark led her back to a bedroom and the hovering stretcher followed. Mama followed the stretcher.

Hermione and TJ were left in the kitchen alone. TJ felt like his skin was too tight and he wanted to claw at it. He wanted a line; goddammit he wanted some blow so fucking bad.

*** . * . ***

Hermione watched the charismatic man in front of her spiral into his thoughts like a traumatised war veteran. He clenched his hands and she was almost sure she could see his bottom lip wobble before he clenched his jaw. She wished there was something she could do for him. From his whispered plea earlier she knew he struggled with substance abuse and her heart broke for him. Something about the name Reeves, Sean Reeves, Cindy's husband, sparked something in him and now he seemed lost in his thoughts.

She didn't know him well enough to offer him anything but the silence she was giving him.

Her mobile phone rang and Hermione snatched it out of her pocket quickly. That ringtone was specifically for Harry. She stood as she answered, thinking she would step outside but stopping when she could hear air raid sirens in the background. "Harry?"

"Hey Hermione," he said and there was something wrong with his voice but the background noise masked it. "Was there an alien attack where you are? Were? Your phone tracker showed a distance jump that suggests Portkey use."

"Yes, there was an attack in Washington. I was with the President. Her Secret Service detail was a wizard and we Portkeyed somewhere rural. We're safe. What happened? Where are you?"

"We were hit too, London, Manchester, Birmingham. Dublin. On your standby orders in case of this sort of thing, Aurors did as instructed and focused on mass evacuations of the major cities. We worked really well with the British Police and RAF."

As he spoke, Hermione was able to pick up the odd sound in his voice. "Harry, what happened? What's wrong? You've been crying."

"Fuck. Didn't think you'd hear that over the sirens."

"Are those the all-clear sirens?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me, Harry."

"We were doing so well, Portkeying dozens of people out at a time. But there were some buildings already collapsing. One of our own went in. According to the Muggles who made it out, our Auror... he didn't. Something happened, alien weapon or something. We only lost the one, though. We saved thousands of people, Hermione."

Her heart was pounding in her chest. She'd worked her way to Minister through the DMLE, she knew all the Aurors by name. Had had drinks and friendships with most of them. To know that one of their own was killed in action was painful. "Harry, who was it?"

"We'll give him a big memorial and everything..." Harry answered with a poor attempt at evading her question.

"Harry, you will tell me who we lost!" She said as forcefully as she could. Her heart started to break when she heard an unmistakable sob from Harry next. Tears were gathering in her eyes in sympathy. "Harry—"

"It was—" his voice broke and he sucked in a wet breath and tried again, "it was Ron."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alpha'd by [Travelilah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/travelilah)! Thank you so much for your help and words of encouragement!

TJ watched as Hermione answered her cell phone. From what he could hear, it sounded like she was getting an update on what was going on in Britain. He figured she must be high up the ranks to get that sort of update so soon after a disaster happened. Then her demeanour changed. Blood seemed to rush out of her face and her skin turned pale, she started blinking like she was trying not to cry and then she froze in place.

Her phone slipped from her hand and started to fall and she looked like she was about to follow. Her mouth had opened in a silent scream and from the expression on her face, it felt like he was watching her heart shatter.

For the second time that day, TJ grabbed Hermione around the waist and pulled her body close to his. He could hear a man speaking from her phone on the floor and he awkwardly reached down and grabbed it without letting her fall. She was pliant in his arms. "She'll, umm, call you back, man," he said pressing the phone against his ear.

"Who is this?"

"TJ Hammond, she sort of freaked out. What did you tell her?"

"Someone close to us died."

"I'm sorry," TJ said surprising himself with his own sincerity. He released his breath in a pant as she stopped holding herself up. "I gotta take care of her."

"Please."

He let the phone slip down his shoulder and caught it to set it on the table as Doug stepped into the room. His gaze went to Hermione, semi-catatonic in his arms. "The Reeveses are in the master bedroom, Anne's in my room, and Mom's resting in yours."

"Shit." There wasn't another bedroom and while he didn't doubt that Mama or Anne wouldn't mind budging up for Hermione he felt she might want a bit more privacy than that. TJ could also feel her sliding out of his grip and he bent his knees and scooped her up, one hand under her knees and the other behind her shoulders.

"Where are you taking her?" Doug asked.

"Hayloft."

"Hope she doesn't have allergies."

TJ snorted and stepped out of the house, carrying her to the barn and the hayloft he and Doug used to hang out in. He had a lot of happy memories that featured the hayloft from summers spent at the farm. He wondered if blow ever went bad and hoped he hadn't kept any in the barn. The craving had waned a little with Hermione collapsing but his skin still itched with want.

When he got to the barn he debated the ladder for about three seconds before he realised his arms were shaking from holding her up. He might have been nicely toned but he couldn't sustain her weight for shit. "Do you think you can stand on your own?" he asked, setting her on her feet. He figured he could catch her if she started to fall again. She stood there but didn't react and definitely didn't talk. "Climb," he said, reaching out to hold the ladder with one hand. She nodded and did as he said. When she was almost to the top he started up. He stepped over the top of the ladder and flopped on the makeshift bed they'd left up here; it was just a scratchy, blue wool blanket laid out over several square bales but the blanket cut back on the sharp bits of straw. The bed was softer than he remembered and the whole loft was musty like the hay was breaking down. He reached out and pulled her hand and she followed him down, sitting next to him against the warmed wood wall that worked as the headboard to the bed.

She didn't say anything for some time and TJ wanted to scream. His skin was starting to itch again, too tight, and his thoughts kept circling back to Sean on that stretcher. Sean with a bloody bandage on his temple, Sean with a head injury, Sean on a bed. He almost wished his mom had shown them to his room so he could picture Sean in _his_ bed but he knew how bad those thoughts were. Finally, when he couldn't take the silence any longer, he rolled a little, bumping his shoulder against Hermione.

"Wanna fuck?"

He hadn't expected it to do anything but alleviate the overwhelming silence but she sucked in a deep breath and blinked, shaking her head as if waking up from her staring contest with the wall. "Umm, I..." Her cheeks might have flushed but he couldn't tell in the chiaroscuro lighting of the barn loft.

He slid down the bed so he was more reclined but propped himself up on his elbows. "Thought it might take your mind off things. Might help me out too." She looked speechless and shocked but at least she was more animated than she'd been. "I mean, I'm trying my damndest to stay clean otherwise I'd offer you a line of blow. There might be a stash behind one of the bales over there," he said, gesturing towards the other side of the loft with his chin.

Her lips pursed but the look wasn't so much as pity as a sort of understanding. He didn't know how to interpret it beyond that. "No, thank you."

"Then tell me your personal crisis and I'll tell you mine. Who was that on the phone?"

Instead of answering directly—he had heard her say the man's name anyway—she started on something else. "When I went off to magic boarding school at eleven years old, I didn't have any friends. By Halloween, I was horribly lonely. A boy's comment about me being a nightmare and no one wanting to be my friend after one class sent me to the girl's lavatories to cry during dinner. A mountain troll got into the school and cornered me there. That boy and his friend, Harry, came to my rescue and the three of us defeated the troll." She smiled, wistful, and continued, "They became my best friends."

TJ watched tears start to slip down her cheeks and he reached up and wiped at the trail under her left eye. He didn't know where this was going but he wanted to offer her comfort.

"We survived a war together. That boy was Ron Weasley and after the war, I married him."

TJ felt like he'd been punched. He could tell from context that she must be talking about the man that died. He couldn't imagine how painful it would be to lose someone you loved so permanently.

"We got divorced five years later but," she reached up and wiped at her cheeks like she was ashamed she was crying, "there hasn't really been anyone since. I still love him; we just didn't work as a couple."

He didn't know if he should ask questions to keep her talking or not. He let himself be nosy. "And how long ago was that?"

She gave a mirthless little snort. "Ten years."

He rolled on his back and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "I can't imagine going that long without sex." He knew it was insensitive as soon as it was out of his mouth but she just pushed playfully at his shoulder.

"I never said I was celibate for ten years, just that there wasn't anyone, you know, special in that time. And now he's gone. He died saving lives." She cleared her throat and seemed to hesitate for a moment before she laid down next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. He was shocked but he wrapped his arm around her back, holding her close. The feel of someone in his arms helped chase the itch in his skin away just a tad more. "Your turn."

"I... umm," he started but struggled, unsure of how to tell his story. He understood better why she'd started with the tale about the mountain troll. "About five years ago, Sean Reeves and I started sleeping together. We were together for six months. It was the longest time I'd been clean since I'd been a kid in the White House." He paused, whether waiting for a question or just to brace himself for his confession; this somehow felt more heartfelt and intimate than NA meetings. "I was in love with him. But then another politician found out and threatened to leak the story to the press to pressure him into voting a different way. He broke it off with me after telling me some really harsh things." He swallowed, wishing he'd thought to bring water out here. "I tried to kill myself. Started using again. Six months later after a single interaction with him, I overdosed on cocaine."

She pressed her face into his shoulder and he almost lost his train of thought. He licked his lips. "I tried to get clean after that. Really. Went to rehab and everything. Then Mama started up her presidential campaign and I was stressed and then that thing in New York happened and," he shook his head. "It was too much. I slipped up again a few more times after that. Lost the entire month of November after Mama won the election.

"I'm twelve months clean and sober now, though." She reached her arm across his torso to hold him and he could have sobbed at the simple, caring touch. "It hasn't got any easier," he whispered.

She turned her head on his shoulder so she could speak. "It may not have got any easier but you've grown stronger. You should be proud of yourself, TJ."

*** . * . ***

It was hours later when Doug disturbed them, kicking up more dust and dirt in the barn as he entered. TJ hadn't noticed the light dimming as twilight crept up on them. The loud chorus of crickets competed with Doug's soft call. "TJ? Minister Granger?"

TJ just raised his arm from the bed where he and Hermione were still wrapped around each other. They'd shared a few more stories—hers were far more entertaining than his—but both had seemed content to just relax into the comfort the other provided. TJ wasn't sure he remembered ever being this close to someone else when it had nothing to do with sex.

Doug ascended the ladder but didn't step over onto the loft. TJ was sure his brother was sending him a disapproving glare but he couldn't make out much in the darkness. "Mom wanted your help with dinner."

"Is there even food here to cook?"

"I think she found some fish in the freezer."

TJ wrinkled his nose at Hermione and she grinned. She sat up and patted at her hair. "Don't think that's going to fix it, sugar," he murmured.

Doug made a half-choked cough in the back of his throat; TJ hadn't even realised he'd used the endearment.

Hermione got up off the bed, slipped her boots back on and then headed for the ladder where Doug was still standing. "Don't worry, Mr Hammond, we didn't have sex." Her voice took on a slightly deeper, more seductive sounding pitch that he didn't think she did intentionally. "Though he did offer."

Doug coughed again and started back down the ladder, calling, "TJ, please don't make advances on political guests." When they were both back on the ground and TJ was following he heard Doug continue, "I am so sorry, Minister Granger, sometimes he has trouble knowing what's appropriate."

TJ reached down and grabbed Hermione's hand. She let him. "Shut up, Dougie," he said. They held hands all the way back to the house, Doug mumbling to himself three steps behind them the entire way.

*** . * . ***

Hermione's heart hurt and if TJ had let her cry for much longer her head would be hurting as well. They'd spent several hours talking. At one point she even conjured a glass of water and they drank two glassfuls each. Talking and crying were dehydrating.

She hadn't talked with Ron in weeks and their last parting hadn't been anything memorable, just the usual hug and kiss on the cheek. She was having trouble thinking he was gone; it wouldn't become real to her until she was back in Britain and she could see and feel his absence in her life. For now, she just locked up the thoughts about Ron in the back of her mind. There were other things she needed to handle.

The farmhouse was lit up brightly as they approached, the two teenagers and an agent on the front porch. In the kitchen, President Barrish was pulling things out of a fridge. President Reeves was sitting at the table with her fingers interlaced. She looked up at them as they entered and her gaze locked on Hermione and TJ's clasped hands. She pursed her lips and she stood.

She was clean now, probably from a combination of a shower and cleaning spells on her clothes. With her stiff posture, it felt like she towered over Hermione even from across the table. Mr Hammond stepped around them and out of the room, probably to tend to his pregnant wife. TJ was the first to break the awkward stalemate that settled over them. "How's Sean?"

Hermione hadn't thought Reeves's posture could get any stiffer but it did. Reeves tipped her chin up slightly and answered. "He's fine now. Resting."

"I'm sorry," he said. Hermione wasn't sure if he was apologising for asking, or for Sean getting hurt to begin with, or something deeper and more personal: his part in Sean's infidelity. He lowered his head and stepped around Hermione, dropping her hand to skim his fingers along her back before he joined his mother in front of the hob.

Reeves watched him go and Hermione slipped her wand into her hand to cast _Muffliato_. The telltale buzzing let her know it was working. "Are you okay, Cindy?" Hermione took a chance to speak more informally with the woman, hoping she was receptive to it.

When she saw that neither TJ nor his mum reacted to her words, Cindy turned back to Hermione. "I apologise, Ms Granger—"

"Hermione, please."

Cindy's smile was polite and stretched tight but she nodded. "Hermione. I'm sorry for having put you in this position with the Dissolution and everything. I was a coward. I wasn't informed about my husband's... interactions with President Barrish's son until after it was all over. I couldn't bring myself to speak to her. What sort of parent, what sort of woman could she be, that her son would have the disposition to seduce a married man?"

TJ had talked about all sorts of things in the barn, including how he thought he got the worst traits of his father, a man who spent decades cheating on his wife. She felt confident enough to speak about it now to Cindy. "I believe he received that lesson from his father, actually. President Barrish seems to be a good woman. Strong in her convictions but open-minded enough to allow magic to happen to and around her within hours of learning about it. She's going to be a great ally for us."

Cindy nodded. "I spoke to her as well; I believe you're right. She's a good woman even... well, despite her son's behaviour."

"He's a good guy if a little lost." Hermione glanced towards TJ as she spoke about him to see he was giving her a confused look; his eyes focused on her lips moving. She gestured towards him with a nod and cancelled the spell. Cindy didn't look especially happy with that being the end of the conversation but turned towards the other people in the room.

"That's trippy," was all he said. He looked down at the counter in front of him. Laying flat and gross looking on unwrapped aluminium foil were two large fish. "Can you clean fish?" He asked, looking back up at them and twisted his hand like he held a wand, "You know, with that?"

Hermione pursed her lips to stop herself from laughing. She glanced at Cindy who looked like she'd smelled something horrible. The frozen fish did have a slight odour but Hermione didn't think it was gone off. She flicked her wrist and let her fingers wrap around her wand, pointing it at the fish. She spoke the spell, one of the many she'd learned in her last year of school after the ten-month horcrux-hunting-camping trip when she'd still been paranoid, and the scales neatly slicked off the fish in one easy movement.

President Barrish was watching over her son's shoulder but it was TJ's dropped jaw and look of awe that had Hermione smiling. "That is so cool," he murmured. He poked at the fish and flipped the pieces where she'd decapitated it, scaled it, and gutted it. He looked back at her. "Can I keep you?"

Hermione giggled and there was a snicker from the corner of the room where Agent Clark was leaning against the wall.

His mother just tutted at him, "TJ," she scolded but Hermione loved his appreciative awe and playfulness. She had never really been allowed to show off her magic to her parents, either because of being underage, or because they couldn't know about the war, and now she couldn't tell them because they didn't remember her anymore. President Barrish and Mr Hammond had been more shocked and scared than awed when she'd showed them magic. TJ's reaction made her feel much more at ease with the Dissolution. Hopefully, more people would react like he had rather than go pale with worry and fear. Even Cindy had a more relaxed expression on her face after TJ's acceptance of magic.

TJ looked to Clark and Cindy before turning to his mother. "Mama, is there more in there? This isn't going to feed everyone."

"I can fix that too," Hermione said, stepping closer and duplicating the fish.

"Can you just make anything from scratch?" he asked, watching the pile of meat grow in front of him.

"Not food, though it can be duplicated. How many are we feeding?" she asked. "President Reeves's family, President Barrish, Mr Hammond and—"

TJ had looked back up at her at that and she remembered that his last name was also Hammond. "Yeah, don't do that. Makes me feel weird. His name is Doug and his wife's name is Anne."

"Right," she started.

"And please, call me Elaine," President Barrish said, flatting her lips into a facsimile of a smile as she glanced at TJ.

Hermione's gaze met Elaine's and she wondered what the older woman thought had happened between her and her son. She nodded. She did the rest of the math in her head. Reeves family of four, Barrish-Hammond family of four, three Secret Service agents, and her. "Twelve of us, one of which is pregnant and one is a teenage boy. Servings for fifteen."

TJ laughed and nodded, before applying spices and herbs to the fish and stepping out onto the porch with the tray. "I'm going to get these on the grill."

Less than a minute later, Hermione's mobile phone rang from the table. She reached out and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Minister Granger! In case you've forgotten, this is Tony Stark, and you were supposed to tell me your secret today. That's okay, we can chat later. I've been told that you're with the President. I'm sure she's got the news already or will soon but it looks like everything is over. We Avengers were spread a little thin but we defeated the newest alien invasion. We might have had some odd help that I need someone to explain to me but that can wait too. The Winter Soldier's just fine, if you're curious. I mean, after one day you've got him making you breakfast so..."

"Mr Stark," Hermione spoke over him, unwilling to let him continue with his insinuation. Did he not know about Bucky and Steve? "Thank you for the all clear. I'll pass on the message if she hasn't received it yet."

"Right, okay then," he said before hanging up.

She looked down at her phone then set it down. She looked back up to Elaine and Cindy. "Tony Stark says it's over. I got an all-clear hours ago from Britain but the United States is so much larger."

Elaine was already nodding. "Yes. Doug and I have been on our phones for hours coordinating and making emergency calls. I even did a press briefing over the phone. It's nice to hear that the Avengers are checking in with the government."

"How about you? Have you heard from wizards in the cities that were attacked?" Hermione asked Cindy.

"Yes, but there's been breaches of the Statute all over. With the worldwide announcement of the Dissolution and the anticipation for it when witches and wizards saw the attacks any that were combat trained came out to help local police and emergency services."

"I'd been getting comments about strange occurrences and oddly dressed people with sticks doing unbelievable things. We need to get ahead of this before the more close-minded of the nation start reacting with fear. With the large-scale attack and sudden appearance of magic, things could get ugly really quickly."

"Then while we're all together," Hermione said, nodding. "Let's talk about implementing a strategy to deal with it." The other two women nodded and they sat down around the table. Hermione conjured notebooks and Agent Clark stepped closer to toss a few biros on the table for the three of them. It was time to get down to business.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alpha'd by [Travelilah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/travelilah)! Thank you so much for your help and words of encouragement!

The political pow-wow started up again after dinner with Doug sitting with the three heads of state to help delegate and collaborate. TJ felt adrift. He wanted to play the piano but the Reeves teenagers were down on pallets in the living room, their phones dead with no chargers and a long day had them agreeing with their mom about going to sleep soon after dinner. Johnson and Clark had decided to nap to be awake later, so only the agent that TJ didn't know was awake and around. Before he went off to TJ's room to nap, Clark had said that a group of agents were on their way with SUVs to take everyone back to DC. It would still be a few hours before they arrived.

He supposed he could venture back out to the barn and nap in the hayloft but he wasn't ready to sleep yet. He wandered aimlessly around the farmhouse until the chaos of his thoughts finally coalesced into something he understood. He wanted to talk to, or at least see, Sean. So after a quick glance into the kitchen to make sure everyone was still where he expected them to be he went to the master bedroom and cracked open the door.

It was dark but a bit of moonlight lit up half of the room well enough to show a chair had been pulled up next to the bed. He could see Sean laying there, breathing evenly. The breath caught in TJ's throat. Sean had never slept over, never stayed the night when they'd been together. He'd never seen him so soft and vulnerable.

"Hey, Sean," he whispered as he slipped into the room completely, shutting the door closed behind him with the softest click. He walked over to the chair and sat down, his gaze never wandering far from Sean's face. He looked the same, TJ thought, maybe a few more crows feet at his eyes. His golden blond hair was still stylish, maybe a different cut though it was hard to tell with the bandage around his temples.

"It's been so long," TJ started, still speaking softly, not even sure what he wanted to say. "When I heard your name earlier, saw your wife for the first time, saw you unconscious... I don't know, my thoughts went haywire but... it doesn't hurt to see you like I expected. Hearing your name, seeing you, it did hurt because I did love you. You can deny how you felt about me if you want but you can't take how _I_ felt away from me. I loved you."

He swallowed and looked to the window. It was open and there was a cool breeze bringing in the scent of grass and late spring. "I didn't think I'd ever get over you, you know... it just hurt _so much_ ," he had to stop because his eyes had blurred with unshed tears and his voice sounded wet. "I wanted to die. Sometimes, I still do... but not because of you anymore."

The sheets rustled and TJ turned his head, worried. Sean's eyes were still closed and TJ sighed.

"I shouldn't have tied my sobriety to you. I know it. Mama had told me that when she found out about us but I didn't care. You were everything to me. And then you were so fucking... _mean_ to me when you broke my heart. I don't think I deserved that." There had been so much that they'd shared but there had been even more that they hadn't. Sean had been a lover but he'd also been a stranger and TJ didn't want that anymore. He didn't want that sort of relationship. He wanted something more, something different. He had enough self-worth, not that it was all that much, to know he deserved to be loved in the sunshine rather than the shadows.

"I think..." he cleared the snot clogging his throat before he stood, done. He wasn't sure why he'd come in here to begin with. There was nothing he needed to say to Sean, nothing he needed from this man. At the door, he turned back and looked at the stranger on the bed. "Goodbye, Sean."

As he started to pull the door closed behind him he thought he heard a whisper of his name. He didn't turn back.

*** . * . ***

TJ returned to the political pow-wow in the kitchen and listened as the women and Doug laid out a strategy to deal with the press regarding the news about magical people even in the wake of this alien threat. He didn't have anything to contribute, he didn't think, but he sat up with them anyway. He'd seen his mom do this sort of press manipulation and engineering before even if he didn't remember it thoroughly. She had done it when he'd kissed Mathieu all those years ago, had done it when the news about his suicide attempt had broke, and again when he ODed. It was much more pleasant to watch her and Doug work like this when it wasn't about him and his mistakes.

Mrs Reeves was blunt and her politics weren't counter-intuitive, per say, to his mom's but they didn't align very well. She was conservative and it was a testament to Hermione's skill that she was able to word things that, although left-leaning, still seemed to fit well with the other woman's ideals. Mrs Reeves did tense up when she finally realised he was in the room sitting against the wall next to the Secret Service agent listening, but she didn't say anything. She did glare at him a few times before Hermione and Mama drew her attention back to the plan.

Another three or four hours had passed before headlights flashed across the back wall of the kitchen into TJ's eyes. He blinked and sat up, attempting to stretch his back and cover his mouth to hide a jaw-cracking yawn at the same time. He glanced around and realised he must have fallen asleep because Mama and Reeves weren't in the kitchen but Anne and Doug were, both of whom were standing near the fridge. Hermione was also blinking and stretching from where she was standing at the table. Had she fallen asleep there?

"You all right?" he asked.

Doug, not even looking at him, answered. "We're fine," like he was talking about him and Anne. TJ gave an annoyed look at Doug's back and glanced at Hermione, she seemed to be trying not to laugh at the little exchange.

"I'm okay," she answered, covering her mouth quickly when she started to yawn. It was his turn to grin at her.

Doug turned around and his eyebrows went up, no doubt realising that TJ hadn't been talking to him. "I'll get Mom."

"I'll tell Cindy that the transportation is here," Hermione said, stepping past TJ and following Doug down the hall.

"Are you okay, TJ?" Anne asked. One of her hands was on her back, the other cradling against her large baby bump.

He smiled at her; she understood his struggle with drugs a bit more than Doug or Mama ever had. She struggled with her own problems, though she'd never confided them to him. She'd told Nana and Nana had told him. Told him to keep an eye on her. TJ thought that during the majority of his mom's campaign, keeping check with Anne was how he managed most of his time sober. It had seemed easier when he had someone to care for.

"I'm good. You? My niece?"

She grinned and glanced conspiratorially towards the hall. He stepped closer when it was clear she had a secret. "Niece _and_ nephew. Don't tell your brother."

TJ's eyes went wide as he looked down at Anne's large belly. He'd never been around a pregnant woman before so he had no idea what a normal size was for a single baby much less twins. "Really?" he asked.

She nodded and said, "I want to tell him when he's a lot less stressed."

"When's he ever less stressed?" TJ teased. All she did was give him a naughty smirk in reply and he couldn't help winking at her. He had to moderate the smile on his face when he heard footsteps headed back up the hall. He bit his lips when Doug stepped back into the room, frowning at his cell phone.

"God, I hope they brought the phone chargers. Even my backup battery is dead," he muttered, looking back up at Anne and TJ. He smiled at them, fondness in his eyes. TJ loved seeing his brother smile at him like that, even if most of that fondness was for Anne. He could keep some of it for himself.

There was a knock on the door and Bucky was standing at the door frame. Anne glanced back and forth between them and muttered, "Damn."

Bucky sent her the quickest smirk before he looked to TJ and then Doug. "Everything okay here?"

Hermione stepped into the room behind Doug and Mama with several others behind her. "Everything's fine, Sergeant Barnes," she answered. "There are twelve people here, I do hope there's enough space."

"There was a damn convoy down the interstate, there's room. And I told you to call me Bucky."

She rolled her eyes at him and headed out the door, Bucky went with her. TJ followed because as much as he loved his family he didn't want to sit in an SUV with them for hours on end on the drive back home.

Hermione walked alongside Bucky slowly towards one of the SUVs in the back of the line. "Stark didn't give me an update on the Avengers. How are you? Steve? The others? Please tell me you had backup after we left?"

"There were quite a few... witches and wizards?" he asked, verifying the terminology, when she nodded he continued, "that appeared behind me after you disappeared. It was an interesting team to work with. Aside from some scrapes and bruises, we're all alive." Hermione was watching Bucky as he talked and one of her heeled boots caught in a dip in the lawn. Before TJ could even move to help her where he was following behind them, Bucky had caught her around the waist then took her elbow and intertwined it with his arm like some gentlemanly escort from another era. They continued walking without drawing attention to her stumble. "Steve called after he and Sam finished up in New York. He got hit with one of the alien weapons and had to be observed for the next few hours."

"What happened? Will he be all right?"

"He was being a reckless punk, as usual. Did some fancy flying kick thing he learned in parkour training. He'll be fine," Bucky answered, though his tone was gruff when he said, "He better be."

"You didn't have to stay for me, you know, you could have headed directly to New York to be with him." Bucky had stopped at the last SUV and opened the back door for her to get in.

"I'm supposed to be protecting you. It's my job and you wanted to make it difficult for me. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

She grinned and said, "I can take care of myself. I'm a war vet."

"If you think you're capable of running with the Avengers, I'm going to need to see proof on a gun range and obstacle course. As far as I'm concerned, you're a politician and my responsibility. Now get in," he said. His words were harsh but the smile on his face softened their impact.

"I have a feeling Stark's going to want to see the proof too." Before she stepped into the SUV she turned and looked at TJ, "Are you riding with us?"

"Umm," he suddenly felt awkward for having followed and listened to their conversation but there was something about the way she spoke to Bucky and the way he spoke about Steve—Steve Rogers, Captain America, TJ's mind helpfully screamed at him—that had him confused. "Yeah, I mean, If you don't mind—"

"Get in," Bucky said, tipping his head towards the SUV where he still held the door for Hermione. She smiled at them both and slid inside to sit in the backseat. TJ followed. Bucky looked around before getting into the seat in the middle row and pulling the door shut.

"Minister Granger," Briggs said from the drivers' seat. "Good to see you. TJ," he greeted.

"Good to see you too, Agent Briggs," Hermione responded politely.

"Hey," TJ offered. He was still partially asleep, he thought, even as he glanced out the darkened windows to see his family and the others getting into the vehicles too. They were hard to make out, just human shapes in the darkness. TJ leaned into the middle to look at the centre console for the time; his phone had given up its charge when he was laying with Hermione earlier that afternoon. It was just after two in the morning.

The engine turned over as Briggs started up the vehicle. TJ could hear the other vehicles start up as well. Clark would be with Mama, maybe Doug and Anne there with them, maybe not. There were enough vehicles that they could ride separately. The Reeves would all be in the same truck. TJ felt a little bad that he hadn't thought about Sean since he'd left the bedroom. Would he have needed help getting into the truck? Was he even awake? It wasn't his place to worry about it. He blinked and leaned back, feeling drained and exhausted.

As the truck started down the long driveway of Grandpa Hammond's farm, TJ sighed. Maybe he could fall asleep again. Bucky turned around, offering his phone to Hermione. On the screen was a photo of Captain America in his uniform. From the closeness of the image, it looked like a selfie and there was a white background behind his head. TJ realised it was a picture from a hospital bed. Steve had his hand turned with his thumb up and a sheepish smile on his face. The next text on the screen said, _see i'm fine ily2_ , and the thing he hadn't figured out finally seemed to click in his brain.

Bucky was in a relationship with Steve.

Oh. Suddenly TJ sucked in a breath. In his memory, he could see the little bit of black and white film from the war that he'd seen at the Cap Exhibit at Smithsonian when he was fifteen and wondering if maybe that smile shared between them was something special. He smiled and Bucky glanced up as he pulled the phone away, smiling too and Hermione was mumbling something about Steve to him. TJ was still reeling and didn't hear her. He was like Uncle Bucky.

Hermione lost the fight with the Sandman before TJ or Bucky on the four-hour drive back from the farm to DC. Her hand had slipped into his and her head had tucked into his shoulder and he was starting to doze with her comforting weight against him. There was the slightest sound, a throat clearing, and he blinked sleepy eyes at Uncle Bucky. One of Bucky's eyebrows was raised and his gaze was on TJ and Hermione's joined hands.

"It's not... not like that, really," TJ started, trying to find the right words. His throat was scratchy with sleep. "I'm gay." Bucky's gaze raised up and met his. "Well, mostly," he added, "breasts are awesome." Bucky's chuckle was deep and quiet but he was nodding like he agreed. "I'm also an addict," he confessed after a moment when Bucky's chuckles had died down, "and touching her makes the cravings sort of fade into the background for a while."

Hermione stirred beside him and TJ hoped they hadn't woken her, he wasn't sure what to do if she'd heard his confession. She didn't actually say anything but she reached forward and grabbed Bucky's hand with her other one. She tugged and he seemed to understand what she wanted and climbed into the backseat with them to sit on her other side. She grabbed his hand once he was settled and wiggled deeper into her seat between them. Bucky shared a look with TJ over her head; TJ just shrugged a little and grinned.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alpha'd by [Travelilah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/travelilah)! Thank you so much for your help and words of encouragement!

Steve had wanted to see Bucky in person after the attempted alien invasion and he was curious about the woman Bucky had been protecting so he'd borrowed a Quinjet. Sam had joined him.

They met up with the Presidential convoy at the White House and after greeting the President he was instructed that Bucky was with Minister Granger in the last SUV in the line by the lean man who identified himself as the President's son and Chief of Staff. He stopped at the window of the last SUV because the agent in the driver's seat waved him close.

"Do you have a camera?" the agent asked in a whisper with a smile on his face.

Steve glanced past him to see three people leaning together asleep in the back. Steve nodded and pulled out his cell phone. He tapped the camera app and opened the back door of the SUV as slowly and quietly as he could. The click of his phone making that dumb shuttering sound woke Bucky up but he didn't immediately move. Steve couldn't help but smile at the picture the three of them made. Bucky on the right, his cheek rested on Minister Granger's head and his right hand held in her left. Granger was in the middle, tucked in between the two men on either side. Her green dress was sleep-wrinkled and she looked very petite between them. On her right, a young man who bore a striking resemblance to Bucky. He was thinner and his sleep-slackened face reminded Steve of Bucky before the war. He clicked the camera button on his phone again even with Bucky glaring at him from under his curtain of hair. Everything about them exhausted and sleeping was adorable.

"Wake up, Hermione," Bucky whispered, he gently squeezed her hand and she stirred. She looked around and yawned but couldn't get her hands free from either of the men to cover it. She squinted in Steve's direction. Behind him, the sky was soft pinks and oranges as the sun was starting to rise.

"Do we have to?" the man on the left mumbled even as he shifted and stretched his back and chest from where he'd slumped in sleep.

She smiled and said, "Yes, TJ."

"Good morning," Steve said to them.

TJ. Steve remembered reading about the President having twin sons. This was probably the second one. Once awake, he looked even more like Bucky. The young man made a grumpy face and flopped back into his seat. "I forgot to wish Dougie happy birthday," he pouted.

Hermione turned to him, "Yesterday was your birthday?"

"Yeah," he answered.

"Well, happy belated birthday," she said as Bucky started to climb out of the SUV. "Maybe between Mr Stark and I we can throw you a little party."

"Have you met Tony?" Steve asked in a tease, even as he offered his arm to her to allow her to step out of the vehicle. "I don't think the word 'little' is in his vocabulary."

"Well, I promised I'd explain something to him today. Is he here?"

"Yes."

"How are you?" she asked with concern, turning her gaze up to Steve. "Bucky said you'd been hit with something. Have you been checked out—" she coughed a little at her words and Bucky and TJ both snickered, "Checked over?" she reworded her question though her face had flushed pink.

Steve laughed too and glanced at Bucky who was looking at him before turning back to her. "Yes, both I think," tipping his head at Bucky and raising his eyebrows at her.

She laughed too.

"Let's go see Stark, then?" she asked once the chortling had died down among them all.

*** . * . ***

They all ended up in the penthouse suite of the hotel that Tony had booked for Hermione to use while she was in DC. They were sitting around a large but decimated spread of breakfast foods all relaxing after the long, tiring day before.

"So you're telling me that the disappearing thing that we captured on video isn't tech?" Tony said, directed to Sam.

Sam was just grinning widely, "Nope. No tech. Just magic."

"Nope, don't believe it. Magic doesn't exist. Science can explain it."

Hermione just shook her head even though she was laughing. "You can't explain magic with science. It just doesn't work that way."

"Prove it! Do something magical that I can't explain," Tony said. This would be the fourth time he'd cajoled her to do something magical. Steve wondered if she would tire from the things she showed them.

The first time, she'd set the table with a wave of her wand. Tony had attempted to explain that away as magnets or tiny propulsors like on his Ironman suit. The second time, she'd multiplied the food when she realised how much Steve and Bucky were eating. Tony had frowned and just said he would have ordered more. The third time, when they'd brought up how she'd tried to join Bucky in the invasion fight she'd sent something stinging at Bucky and Tony. Bucky had looked a little confused and asked what he did to deserve it while Tony was pretending that it hadn't hurt.

Hermione sighed and closed her eyes, twisting her wrist and the wand in her hand. Out of the tip of her wand poured a silvery-blue mist and then an animal, an otter, expanded into the space. It swam through the air and glowed as it brushed by each of the men sitting around the table.

Sam smiled and tried to pet it, TJ stared in awe with an open mouth and looked more relaxed than he had all morning. Tony grinned as the otter headbutted his hand. It danced and swam through the air to brush against Steve's face and the feel of it was amazing. Like suddenly everything was okay; anything he might have worried about was gone and pure joy bubbled up his throat into a laugh. Lastly, the otter floated over to Bucky and curled around his shoulders and he relaxed back into his chair; the sweetest smile gracing his lips. In the glowing light of the little otter, it looked like he de-aged back to the almost-carefree young man he'd been before the war. After a few moments, the otter faded.

Tony looked almost deprived of happiness as it left. "What was that?" he asked, the competitive, argumentative tone of his voice gone completely.

"It's called a Patronus. It's a difficult spell. It's made up of my happiest memories."

"That's what happy feels like?" TJ murmured, still slack-jawed and staring at Hermione. None of the men around the table would point out that he had tears in his eyes.

"Yes," she answered though there was the slightest catch in her breath.

No one said anything for a little while until Tony broke the silence. "So are you going to stay around here for a bit?"

She shook her head. "I can't, I have a government to run."

"I still can't believe you're in charge of an entire country."

"The Wizarding World is immensely smaller than the Muggle one." She breathed heavily and added, "Plus I have a funeral to go to."

TJ nodded and changed the subject. "I don't want you to leave," he whined.

"You can always come visit, you know, and you've got my mobile number."

"Do you guys use owls over there?" Sam asked, randomly. She smiled and nodded, "Thought so, I about freaked out the first time my sister sent me a letter that arrived by owl."

"Wait? That's... that's how you knew about the disappearing woman? Your sister's a magician, er," Tony stopped and glanced back at Hermione, "Witch?" She nodded. "Okay, that's so not fair. Can _she_ do that happy spell? Can we hire her?"

Sam shrugged. "I think she's content to be a kindergarten teacher in the magical enclave where she lives in New Orleans."

"Huh," Tony answered. He turned back to Hermione. "Can you bottle that happy spell? I'll pay!"

Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly, "At some point, research and spell development might have been the path I was on but it's not now. I don't think you can bottle Patronuses. I'll ask Luna when I get back. She's always been creative, I'm sure if anyone can bottle pure happiness, she can." She stood and flicked her wand and they all watched as the leftover food hovered and tucked itself into containers that appeared out of thin air. Then floated over to the fridge. The dishes followed, sudsing up and drying themselves in the short distance from the table to the cabinets they came from.

The others all stood up and started migrating around the room. Tony and Sam headed for the living room, starting up a conversation about magic versus tech, TJ went to Hermione, and Bucky stepped close to Steve. Bucky's arm went around Steve's back and he relaxed into the embrace. "He is a lot like you," Steve said. Bucky made a contemplative face and nodded.

From across the room they heard with their serum-enhanced hearing as TJ whispered to Hermione, "Offer still stands, you know."

She giggled a little. "You're ridiculous. Maybe in another life, TJ. I don't think we're quite compatible in that regard."

He shrugged. "I'm sure you could magic something into making it work." She blushed.

Bucky gave a quiet snort and shook his head in fond exasperation. He turned and tugged at Steve's waist to follow Sam and Tony, leaving the not-quite lovebirds alone in the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews you've left, I appreciate them so much!


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